A Righteous Man In Hell
by Beautiful-Crying-Angel
Summary: Dean has been dealing with the pressure of the coming of his Apocalypse and his role in it. After being knocked unconscious, he has a strange anxiety-induced dream which causes him to question what he should do.


**I haven't posted anything recently, but this one has been with me for a while. It's a little ... odd, but I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy =)**

_**A Righteous Man in Hell**_

**Summary: Dean is the one who broke the first seal keeping Satan's prison closed. Therefore he is the one who has to fix it. This is one burden that Dean is forced to carry alone, and one that, if he is not careful, will make him go completely insane. When Dean is knocked unconscious his deepest thoughts cause some weird dreams that force him to really look at himself.**

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><p>Fifty. That was the number of seals that had already been broken. Fifty of a mere sixty-six keeping the Prince of Darkness himself shut up in his cage. If the last one was broken then Satan would be released and "hell on earth" would be more than just an expression – it would be reality.<p>

This is what was nagging at the back of Dean Winchester's mind as he lay awake: another dark motel room, another mattress that needed to be dry-cleaned, another plaster cracked ceiling. He had been staring at it for two hours now, his body exhausted but his mind plagued by Apocalyptic thoughts. He could hear Sam's steady breathing to his left but it did not give him any peace, as it once would have.

Then he heard it. He would recognize that sound in his sleep. The Impala's engine had roared to life. He jumped out of bed, still fully clothed – he never had the energy to undress anymore – and raced out the door. Behind him Sam muttered a sleepy "What's it?" and sat up.

Dean could make out the distinct shape of someone behind the steering wheel of his baby. He sprinted across that parking lot with remarkable speed, pulled open the driver's side door, and hauled the scrawnier man out by his collar.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean raved. How had the punk gotten into his car in the first place? He knew he had locked the door. He was positive. If this guy had jimmied her lock then he was in for a major ass-kicking.

"Chill man, I was just checking her out."

"Excuse me? I'll teach you for breaking into a man's car just to 'check her out'."

"Hey, don't blame me. Sam left the door unlocked." Two things ran through Dean's mind then: how the hell did this guy know Sam? And where had Sam been in his car?

"Who the hell-"

"Hell's right." The man's blue-grey eyes rolled back into his skull replaced by the black lenses of his possessor. Demon. "You really love this car, eh Dean?" Instinctively his hand flew to his back pocket, but his knife was still nested under his pillow, where he always kept it.

Dean cursed himself. A sick smile crept across the demon's face. He wasn't sure what the thing wanted, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't good. He heard Sam call his name from the doorway. There would have been a time when that voice would have filled him with relief, given him the strength to send this fiend back where he belonged. Instead all it did was convict him that the last thing he wanted was to have this thing near Sam. Not because of his protective older-brother impulses but because he was nervous that his younger brother would do something reckless; like go crazed blood-junkie on him.

Dean opened his mouth, but before the words had even formed on his tongue, he was reeling backward through the air. His feet left the ground. He flew an unnatural distance, assaulted by an invisible force. His head hit the motel wall – hard. The world darkened and disappeared around him.

**_ARighteousManInHell_**

A golden sun was descending on the horizon. Its last rays licked the sky and cast pink and orange shadows across the last light of day. On either side of a stretching black-top, nature was at its finest. Lush green trees were pleasing to the eye, and tall grasses and lovely flowers released pleasing scents. Dean did not notice any of this, however, as he sped down the lonely road, window down, the Impala's seat familiar under him. He was oblivious to the beauty surrounding him, to the peace that existed somewhere in the world.

He didn't know where he was driving or why. He just knew that it was important. He seemed to be chasing the sun. Riding on its bright rays, trying to make them last as long as possible. He knew what awaited him in the dark, and he didn't want to face it.

That was when he realized there was a figure in the road ahead. He slammed on the brakes, cursing himself for being too consumed in his thoughts to notice! The brakes screamed. He waited for the inevitable thump that he had hit something, but it did not come. He looked up and was surprised to see there was a young woman on the center line.

She was beautiful: almost unearthly so. She was in a pale yellow sundress, her hair hanging loose, and she was swaying her hips in a circular motion, arms raised, smiling face lifted to the sky. It took Dean a moment to recognize that she was dancing. Not those slithering movements he saw at strip-clubs but a real, graceful, soul-filled dance that he could not describe. Her bare feet moved lightly on the pavement and, for a minute, he just sat there mesmerized.

Finally he pulled himself out of the car and asked, "What the hell are you doing?" The man in him saw some strange girl doing some random dance on a back road. He reasoned that she was either very eccentric or very high. The hunter in him, however, saw her as a little too odd to be human and was poised to grab his gun. "I could have hit you!"

She paused only briefly to say, "Don't you like dancing, Dean?" Ever fiber of his being was alert now.

"How do you know my name?"

"Silly, Dean. You think I'm a ghost or a demon or something. I'm not. I'm a part of you."

"Part of me is chick?"

She giggled. Giggled! Something Dean would surely not do. "Come dance with me, Dean." Maybe it was the girl's easy smile, or the way that she kept using his name, that made him draw closer to her. As he drew closer the scene around them shifted until suddenly they are in a forest clearing, complete with a gushing waterfall.

"You need to loosen up, Dean. Relax."

He gave a humourless chuckle. "Sweetheart, you try relaxing when you have to deal with what I have to."

"Oh, I know all about it." The girl continued to dance. "The countdown is on for the Apocalypse. Tick, tick, tick. It could be any day now. And you're the reason that it started in the first place. Lucifer's going to rise, and little Deanie popped open the first lock on his silvery cage." Dean wasn't sure what cut him deeper: her complete indifference to the situation or the way she tossed around his blame. His only defence was silence. "Why they called you a righteous man I'll never know."

The girl began to hum a tune softly to herself.

"I'm going to fix this."

She stopped. "They called you a righteous man, Dean, but you're not. You're selfish. You're stubborn. And you're cocky. You think you can do these things, but you just can't. Sam's right: you're not strong enough. Never were. Never will be. You don't even have faith for goodness sakes! Not in God, not in angels, not in Sam. You don't even have faith in yourself. You're a failure." She smiled and started her dance again. "So why don't you just forget the world and dance with me?"

Dean did not move. He did not advance towards her, nor did he shy away. He just stood there. Stunned. The weight of the entire world crushing his shoulders, making it difficult to breathe.

Suddenly the world shifted again, and they were on a dock – Dean and the girl, but there was someone else there too. A young man was sitting on a wooden post. No older than the girl, he was broken and beat-up looking. It was obvious that the world had taken him, roughened him up, drug him down, and spit him out. He was a pale face contrasted with dark circles around his eyes. Dean was nervous to hear what such a harbinger would say.

The girl danced along the misty dock, lost in her own music-filled existence.

"I need a light."

Dean retrieved his lighter and held it out to the younger man. A small smile pulled at his lips.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you want then?"

"You know, Dean. Something to have faith in. The one who starts it is the only one who can end it. So, you made a mistake. It doesn't matter in the end. You are the chosen one. Only you can mend this once and for all. A righteous man in hell. One of good intentions and good heart, a man neglected by the world but a source of light to it none the less. A hero. One that even hell's burning flames can't snuff out. You can do it, Dean. It's up to you."

"Why, why me?"

"Because it has to be you." Dean felt confused and torn. It was one of the most intense feelings he had felt in a long time. These two beings were giving him conflicting messages. Why him? Why not someone else? Could he do it? Could he afford not to try? What if he failed? What if he succeeded? What did he have to do?

"I don't know what to do..." The girl stopped, her ever-present smile leaving her face. She walked to the young man and took his hand in her own.

"No one ever said it was going to be easy."

Dean watched them and finally asked what had been bothering him this entire time, "What are you?"

"We're a part of you, Dean. You and everyone else."

"Who are you then?"

The girl smiled. "I'm Apathy. He's Hope."

"That doesn't make sense. If you're Apathy why are you so...?"

"Lovely? Happy? I am what the world has made me. I'm the attractive option for people. It's so easy for them to just give up and welcome me. So, so easy. Their defeat is my music. I thrive because the world lets me thrive. It gives me life. Indifference can be so beautiful. Heart-wrenching really. Live and let be. Dance and forget the world. Nothing can touch you."

"And you?"

"It's harder for me to exist, Dean. No one has the will to persevere. No one has the faith, the light, the ambition. Hope takes work. I have to struggle to survive, crawling and pushing everyday, but I do it. Hope can be the difference. It can make change, but only if people are able to endure and work for it."

"And they're not..."

"Sadly." Hope looked at Apathy and smiled, "I suppose we'll always exist together."

She smiled and kissed his head. "Let's go now, dear."

Dean watched as Hope and Apathy walked away together, hand-in-hand, her dancing along beside him and he walking with his head held high. As they disappeared Dean's spirits sank. "Wait!" he yelled suddenly. "I still don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He began to race after them but suddenly he was seated in a diner. Sunlight poured in the windows and warmed him. He wondered where the strange young couple had gone. Hope. Apathy. There were times when he had known both. Now, he knew only despair. A friendly waitress placed a cheeseburger in front of him. "Wait, miss, I didn't order anything."

"It's covered, sweetie. That little girl at the counter got it for you." Dean followed the line of her finger. Then he saw her. He would know that blond hair anywhere.

"Lilith..."

She smiled and waved her small hand in a child-like greeting. "Hiya, Dean! Better make up your mind soon. I can't wait until you can come play with me again."

Her eyes rolled back and exposed those creamy whites unique only to her. Suddenly he seemed to be falling into her eyes. Everything blurred and brightened. It blinded him. He couldn't keep himself from...

**_ARighteousManInHell_**

"Dean? Dean?" a voice asked above him.

The only reply he could muster was a groan. Sunlight filtered in the motel window through the closed blinds. Sam's face came into focus above him.

"Demon?" Dean asked, gripping his head as he tried to sit up. Gently Sam pushed him back down.

"You've been out a long time, Dean. I was worried you had a concussion."

"Sam. Where is the demon?"

"I took care of it." Dean nodded and pretended to accept this answer, although it frightened him. He imagined Sam's version of "taking care of it" involved something similar to a vampire sequence. "You should rest, Dean."

"Okay," he mumbled, but he was sure he would never be able to rest again. There was too much at stake. Too much he could lose. One of those things being his sanity. Reality was twisting and turning around him, trying to trick him. He would have to be stronger than it, than the thoughts that tormented his mind. He needed to get a grip on things, or else he would never be able to do what he had to.

Dean knew what that was now.

No doubts. No questions.

Lilith was going down.

He lacked faith, but he did have one thing that could defeat her: hope.

**END**


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